


One For All

by janey_p



Series: Fluffvember 2020 [1]
Category: Magnum P.I. (TV 2018)
Genre: Costume Parties & Masquerades, Fluff, Fluffvember 2020, Hair Braiding, Hijinks & Shenanigans, M/M, Pre-Slash, Prompt Fill, Wigs, reluctant Gordon, some at least
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-01
Updated: 2020-11-01
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:00:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27283810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/janey_p/pseuds/janey_p
Summary: So, this wasverynice. And Gordon would never admit that he was glad that Magnum had convinced him to go to this party.
Relationships: Gordon Katsumoto/Thomas Sullivan Magnum IV
Series: Fluffvember 2020 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1992121
Comments: 5
Kudos: 14





	One For All

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt #1: **“Ssh. Stop fussing. I’m just braiding your hair.”**
> 
> Loosely connected to [All In Good Fun](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27515989)
> 
> This was one of three prompts that looked like they might not work for the guys. My inner rebel immediately went “Watch me!”  
> As if their short hair were any real deterrent. There was S2 E5, after all… :D
> 
> But it does mean that this story got much longer than expected. It took a while to get them where I wanted them to be since Gordon was fighting so hard against it. Oops?

“Forget it, Magnum. I’m not going to wear that costume!” 

Of that, Gordon was absolutely sure. It wasn’t that he was against dressing up and having fun. Other people could do that as often as they felt like it. But he drew the line at dressing up himself.

“But why?” 

Magnum sounded genuinely puzzled as to why Gordon wasn’t agreeing. It made Gordon wonder when he had ever given the man the idea that he wanted to be anyone else but himself.

“The better question is, why does it have to be _me_?” Gordon asked. “I don’t even want to go to the party in the first place. Can’t you just ask Higgins?” 

“No.” 

Oh, no! That sounded stubborn. And not very forthcoming about the reason why Higgins wouldn’t be a suitable candidate.

“Wait. That’s it?” Gordon asked when Magnum refused to say more on the matter. “That’s all you’re going to say about it? Do you think Higgins won’t be able to pull off the musketeer look, or something?” 

“I’ll have you know that Higgins makes a great musketeer. I know that because I’ve already seen her in her D’Artagnan costume. So she’s out as a replacement for Rick. Not to mention she’d be swimming in his clothes.”

“This is _Rick’s_ costume?” 

Okay, Gordon might probably have been able to guess that, had he taken the outfit out of the box, the way Magnum had tried to make him do ever since he had come to him with this ridiculous request.

“Of course! Who else did you think would be close enough to me and T.C. to qualify as our third musketeer?”

Yeah, all right. Magnum had him there. But that begged one important question, and Gordon was going to ask it!

“Then why is Rick not going to the party?”

“Because he went and caught the flu at the most inconvenient time ever. So we need a replacement.”

“You could have asked literally anybody else but _me_ , though.”

“But you’re the next best thing. There’s nobody else who fits into our group the way you do, by now. _And_ ,” Magnum said, apparently thinking he had an ace up his sleeve, “you’re much closer to Rick’s stature. I’m sure you could wear the costume without further modifications.”

“That’s all well and good, but I still don’t want to wear it.”

Magnum sighed. “Look, Rick has spent a lot of time and money on this project, and just because he got sick this close to the party, he’d never allow all of his effort to go to waste. There is simply no way he’d be okay with us just dismissing Athos like that. Besides, you owe me.”

Gordon was surprised. He’d have thought that someday, Magnum would ask him to look the other way when he was doing something illegal. That’s what he’d been prepared for, ever since Magnum had helped him with a case by going undercover.

“Are you sure you want to call in your favor for _that_?” 

“Sure. I mean, I could always find something you’d like doing even less. But this feels sufficiently important.” 

Gordon knew he looked mulish now, which would usually be beneath him. But Magnum had the talent to bring out the worst in him.

“Would you at least try it on? Just once? Just to see how it fits?” Magnum wheedled.

Reluctantly, Gordon took the costume out of its box. He thought he could humor Magnum at least that much. But when he lifted the hat, he recoiled.

“This comes with a _wig_?” he exclaimed, staring at the long curls in horror.

“Of course. We wanted to be as historically accurate as possible.” Magnum sounded entirely too unconcerned.

“Well, that decides it. I’m out!”

*** * ***

Later, Gordon couldn’t remember how arguing against going to the party and wearing the costume _at all_ had escalated to him protesting against the wig and Magnum taking that to mean he’d agreed to wear the costume. No matter how hard he thought about it, the whole exchange remained a blurred mess. So here he was, a French royal guard whose uniform had turned out to fit surprisingly well, just having arrived at La Mariana, trailing behind a visibly smug Magnum and a faintly amused Higgins. At least he’d been able to stay firm about the wig. He’d have felt even more ridiculous with it than he already did with just the costume.

The party appeared to be in full swing already. That was probably a good thing, Gordon supposed. The party guests weren’t paying attention to the doors anymore, and newcomers could slip into the crowd mostly unnoticed.

He briefly wondered how they’d ever find T.C. among all those people but got his answer almost immediately. The guy was hovering near the entrance, not only towering over everyone else in his vicinity but also hard to miss due to his flashy feathered hat. And the loud voice—couldn’t miss that, either. 

“There you are!” T.C. called when he spotted them. “I was beginning to wonder if you guys would show up at all.”

Higgins pointed a thumb in Magnum’s direction. “That’s his fault. He managed to misplace his sword.”

“ _Really_ , Aramis?” T.C. mocked. “How unprofessional! We should make an example of you.”

“Like how? Deny me food and drink? Because I don’t think a public whipping would go over well.” 

Gordon must have made some sound at that—just _how_ had someone with such a strong tendency to insubordination done well with the SEALs?—because T.C. focused on him next. 

“And what happened to your hair, Athos?” 

These guys were committed to their roles, weren’t they? Gordon flat out refused to go that far. So he raised an eyebrow in reply and silently dared T.C. to demand he wear the wig. Thankfully, the big guy seemed to get the message and let it slide with an eye roll. 

That didn’t stop Magnum from throwing him significant “I told you so” looks, though, which Gordon chose to ignore. He would _not_ allow him to start arguing again. 

God, he needed a drink! There was no way he’d survive this evening otherwise. And maybe he’d ditch the others while he was at it. Observing the party from the sidelines would suit him just fine. 

*** * ***

An hour after their arrival, Gordon was finally starting to relax. He’d had some punch and some snacks off the buffet, and none of the other guests were staring at him the way he had expected them to. He’d spotted several people with even more ridiculous costumes than his. That was surprisingly helpful for his inner peace.

He hadn’t been able to shake off Magnum yet, though. Which was strange. Wouldn’t it make more sense for him to stick to T.C.? They hadn’t had much opportunity to spend time together lately, by their own admission. So why was he trailing Gordon like a lost duckling, giving him speculative looks?

As if reading his thoughts, Magnum suddenly focused on T.C. leaning against the bar.

“What is he _doing_?”

Magnum wasn’t making any sense, so Gordon followed him through the crowd as the man stalked towards his friend. He had to admit he was curious now.

“Oi, Porthos! Put that phone away! You’re ruining the authenticity,” Magnum demanded, once they were close enough that he wouldn’t have to shout.

“Ohhh, big words!” T.C. sounded impressed for some reason.

“Are you implying I’m dumb?” Magnum gasped, pretending to be hurt. 

“I’m implying that the punch is spiked, and you’ve already had two cups. How can you still pronounce that word?”

“Why would the punch be spiked?” Gordon asked with a worried glance at his own cup. 

“Have you ever been to a party before? Of course, it’s spiked. One person or another always gets around to it. In fact, I think I’ve seen _two_ people tampering with the bowl by now.”

“I thought that teenagers did that, not _adults_.”

“This is Rick’s bar. What did you expect?” 

Fair point, Gordon guessed and watched T.C. going back to rapidly typing something on his phone. 

“Who are you texting anyway?” Magnum asked, leaning closer to try and see for himself. 

“Rick. He may be feeling like shit right now, but he still demands regular updates. He hates how everyone but him has fun. Claims he needs to live vicariously through me.”

This was all the warning Gordon got before T.C. raised his phone and snapped a photo of him and Magnum. 

Gordon was blinded by the flash for a moment. By the time the after images had faded, the photo had been sent, and T.C. was grinning down at Rick’s reply. 

“He wants a photo of the full set. Where has D’Artagnan wandered off to?”

*** * ***

The next two hours of the evening were a blur to Gordon. He had wondered if T.C. had just been kidding when he had talked about the spiked punch. But considering the way he felt right now—all warm and loose and carefree—there must have been some truth to it. 

And it was the only explanation for finding himself sitting in front of Magnum right now, with the infernal man’s wig on his own head. When exactly had _that_ happened? He couldn’t remember having agreed to it.

There was a sudden but gentle tug at the wig, and then Magnum’s hand was brushing over his left shoulder. Gordon wouldn’t have been able to suppress a shudder at that even if he’d tried.

“Shhh... Stop fussing. I’m just braiding your hair.”

Gordon hadn’t thought that Magnum’s voice could go that low. It made more warmth spread through him at a truly alarming speed. But before he could tense up at the feeling, there was another tug at the wig. 

It was an odd sensation since he could only feel it by the way the wig shifted. But it was repetitive and somewhat soothing. So he stopped second-guessing the situation and allowed himself to enjoy it… 

He startled out of a doze when Magnum patted his shoulder and said, “All done. Now you look dignified, even with the wig.”

“Huh?” Gordon said intelligently, trying to bring his brain back online. 

“I braided the hair down your back. I don’t like to admit it, but it does look better that way. Aren’t you thankful I helped you out, there?”

And just like that, the mood was gone. Gordon wasn’t sure if he should be annoyed or relieved. He leaned towards relieved because his reaction to Magnum’s ministrations had been so unexpected. He wasn’t sober enough at the moment to properly process his conflicting feelings.

At least, things were back to normal now, he thought when he turned around and was greeted by Magnum’s smug grin. He knew how to deal with _this_ version of the man.

“Thankful is not quite the word I’d have used.”

“Awww, don’t front. You’ve had fun, so far, haven’t you?”

“... Maybe. A _little_. But I’ll be glad when I’m back home, regardless.”

“The punch was something else, wasn’t it?”

Gordon could only groan in answer, and Magnum’s grin widened.

“How are _you_ still so put together?”

“Well, I did have those two cups of punch, but I didn’t even drink half of them when I noticed how potent it was. I conveniently lost the contents at some point,” Magnum winked.

“Ugh. I hate you! You could have warned me.”

“You’d never have let me put that wig on you while sober, though.”

“That’s kind of the point. Now, can I take it off again? It’s starting to get hot under it.”

“Just a little longer. I need a photo of the final result.”

“You _don’t_ need a photo of this!”

“Too late, there are a few of the braiding process already.”

“ _What_?” 

“You don’t really believe that either T.C. or Higgins would have let a moment like that stay undocumented when they noticed it happening?”

“I’d rather been hoping nobody had noticed at all.”

There was a sudden flash that made Gordon turn around so fast, he almost lost his balance. When the world righted itself again, he caught the tail end of T.C.’s grin. The guy was typing again. Gordon wanted to hurt him a little…

“Rick is delighted,” T.C. announced after a few seconds and two rapid message alerts. “He says thank you for brightening his otherwise dreadfully boring evening.”

“Okay. That’s it! I’m going home now.”

Gordon wasn’t annoyed at the guys. He knew there was no malice behind their teasing. But he was exhausted now, and it made him long for his bed.

The lack of protests surprised him almost as much as Magnum saying he’d find Higgins so that they could leave together. Magnum was gone before Gordon could fully process this turn of events.

“That… was suspiciously easy,” he wondered.

“Oh, no need to worry. You just played along so well tonight that he feels like he owes you at least that much,” came T.C.’s amused reply.

“How self-aware!”

“Yeah, sometimes he stops hiding that talent,” T.C. said with a wink, then turned his attention to something behind Gordon. “And there’s your rescue. Good night, Gordon. Hope you had a good time.”

Yeah, Gordon thought as he followed the other two outside. It hadn’t been the worst way to spend his evening.

**Author's Note:**

> I’d like to say I got dragged into writing for this fandom kicking and screaming, but that would be a lie. Apparently, all it took for me to write fanfic again after almost 14 years(!), and writing _at all_ after 2, was one person asking to do a collab for Fluffvember with me. What have I gotten myself into? I’ve never done anything of this scale before. Wish me luck!
> 
> Also, since some of the fics for this event got written in advance, there should hopefully be one new story per day – half of them written by me, and the other half written by [DaniDubskia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DaniDubskia/).


End file.
